Recursed by the Black Pearl
by MollyMega
Summary: Chp 5: Just a little scene between Will and Elizabeth.
1. Home

The Pirates of the Caribbean: Re-cursed by the Black Pearl  
  
It was beautiful wedding; Elizabeth was stunning in a flowing white gown. She had even worn a corset, just for him. William Turner stifled a chuckle as he remembered his wife informing him of the pain a simple item of clothing caused. He had laughed also at that time, and Elizabeth had threatened to make him wear one.  
  
Will sighed happily as he shifted in bed. The wedding had been months ago, but Will remembered every detail to the types of flowers- white roses- to the glowing face of his bride. He even remembered the way Governor Swann had remained rather grumpy the duration of the ceremony, and constantly shot Will nasty looks.  
  
William could care less of what his father in law thought of him, as long as he had Elizabeth. And he indeed had her. His brown eyes slid to the other side of the bed where Elizabeth Turner, he smiled broadly, slept soundly. She was illuminated by a single burning flame that sent shadows dancing across her body, casting a soft glow to her smooth skin. Will gently traced his finger over her arm, up to where her hair fell in soft curls to frame her face. He was sure there was no happier man in the world.  
  
Quietly, the young man slipped from bed, bare feet touching the chill wooden floor. He didn't bother slipping a robe over his body, rather enjoying the night air. He grabbed a poker and stirred up the embers of a dying fire, trying uselessly to persuade it back to life. He replaced the tool and padded silently over to the window to peer out of the streaked glass.  
  
The city was quiet, as it usually was on a normal night. Will couldn't suppress the memory of nearly a year ago, the image of cannons flying through the air; destroying all in its path. Houses were on fire, windows being broken, women and children screaming as they tried to escape the army of demon pirates unleashed on the city. Will felt a twinge of guilt, as he knew the pirates were looking for him, for his blood, the coin his father sent. Unconsciously, he rubbed his left hand where a slim scar was from a self-inflicted wound; the blood of his cut had been smeared on the coin.  
  
He turned from the window with a shutter, eyes once more falling on the image of his sound wife. Yes, Elizabeth was beautiful, breath taking even. He had loved her from the moment he had opened his eyes to cough up water. He had been drowsy, fatigued, starved, but when he locked onto those kind eyes staring back at him, he knew this was the girl he wanted to marry. Odd, the thoughts of a boy of seven.  
  
Will finally returned to bed, his arms wrapping securely around the young woman sharing the bed, holding her close. He pulled the blankets up over their shoulders, allowing his head to sink into the plush pillow as his eyelids slowly began to close. The warmth of the pan spread across his body, heating his cold feet. Slowly Will allowed himself to fall into sleep, no longer worrying about pirates or curses. Then, the warning bell rang throughout the city.  
  
A.N: So, the movie was good, no? There were several holes in the plot line, which frustrates me, but the actors more than made up for it. Anyway, enough blabbering! I don't think idea has been used in a PotC fic yet, but we'll see. Reviews are always appreciated. 


	2. Jack

Recursed by the Black Pearl  
  
* Note * Rating change!!  
  
It was a crystal clear day with enough of a breeze so that the white canvas puffed out and was pulled along by the ocean wind. Jack Sparrow -correction, Captain Jack Sparrow- gripped the smooth wood with rough hands calloused from a career as a pirate. His booted feet rested comfortable on a narrow, round beam, on the tallest mast of his ship. Jack smirked, yes, his ship, the Black Pearl.  
  
It had been a hell of a fight to get it back from his traitor of a first mate, but in the end, it was well worth it. Not to mention he collected a trustworthy crew along the way. His set of liquid brown eyes slid from the blue expanse of sea, down to the wooden deck of the ship, where the crew wandered around, looking the sizes of dolls. There was Anamaria at the wheel, probably pretending to be Captain again. And Duncan being chased by the pestering blue macaw, it was squawking about something, but from Jack's vantage point, he had no idea what. Nor did he have any wish to know what it was muttering.  
  
He spotted Gibbs directly below him, tiny arms flailing around in a desperate attempt to capture the captain's attention. Jack gave a nod and slight wave of his hand to signal that Gibbs had completed his goal, and Jack would be down shortly. "Or longly," Jack muttered, glancing around the mast. It was always easier getting up rather than down. He could feel Anamaria's piercing eyes boring into his back, could imagine the small smirk playing on her face as she watched him helplessly pace about wondering how to get down.  
  
The pirate clenched his jaw in determination, leaning out with his fingers stretching for the fabric of the sales. His boots began to lose their precarious grip, so with a last desperate attempt, Jack leaped. One hand tightened around the cloth, the other quickly joining, and for several moments he just hung there, gripping the sails.  
  
Jack Sparrow tried not to scream to loudly as he fell. He had felt one of his infamous spasms starting when his grip loosened enough that gravity took effect so that he began to fall. It was almost like a slide falling down the curve of the sails, hands reaching for anything to slow the descend, legs kicking pointlessly, voice going into overdrive. He hit the bottom wooden pole of the sail and flew through the air, landing unceremoniously in a crumpled pile on the deck.  
  
"Cap'n! Cap'n!"  
  
Jack groaned, unable to decide if the voice was Gibbs or the damn parrot. "Jack, are you alright?" That was definitely Gibbs. Hands gripped under his arms, hauling him up into a painful sitting position. The captain slowly pried his eyes open, squinting up at the crowd around him. "Dun. . . Duncha have work to do?" He slurred out, glaring at the crew. They group exchanged uncertain glances before Gibbs began to shout, "You heard 'im! Get ter work!"  
  
The crowd grudgingly dispersed until only Gibbs and Anamaria kneeled beside him. Jack let his head drop to the side so he looked crookedly at the woman. As predicted, the smirk was placed on her face, but was that worry he saw in his eyes? He was about to ask her this when Gibbs once more began to demand to know if he was all right.  
  
"Yes, I'm bloody alright!" Jack snapped, forcing himself to his knees. The world spun like a compass, before slowly coming back into focus. Anamaria gripped his elbow as support, Gibbs taking his shoulder. Jack pulled away from them both with a few staggering steps, leaning against the railing on the stairs, "You were wavin' to me, Gibbs?"  
  
"Yes, Cap'n. I was just wondering if we wanted to dock at Chapbook port, we're near it."  
  
"I know where we are! Will you please stop spinning, Gibbs? You bloody git." Jack grabbed his reeling head, shook it a few times before things went back to focus. He processed his first mate's words before nodding, "Yes. Let's stop there, get some supplies. I'm sure we're running low on things." Jack made a mental note to replenish his diminishing rum supply.  
  
Jack sighed, wandering to the edge of the boat, glancing at the calm waters below. "Suppose I should freshen up a bit," he said, beginning to slide the jacket off his shoulders. He dumped it to the ground, as well as his hat, sword, gun with no bullets and boots. "Uh, captain?" Gibbs asked, darting a glance over to Anamaria who had one eyebrow raised at Jack as he began to unbutton his shit. "Huh?" Jack looked up, followed Gibbs gaze and chuckled.  
  
The shirt soon joined the rest of the pile as Jack spoke, "It's not like she hasn't seen it already." He shot the girl a grin, received a glare in return, and laughed again, "Better this time, eh, Ana?" Anamaria pursed her lips, marching over to her captain and said in a low voice, "Sparrow, you've nothing to brag about." She slugged him in the jaw, watching him trip over the railing over in his blumaroos, yelling once again.  
  
Gibbs leaned over the railing as far as he dared, watching Jack splash into the water, before straightening to look at the woman beside him. She smiled smugly, wiping her hands, and tossing the captain's pants over the railing after its owner. Far below, Jack's voice traveled up, "Yo ho ho it's cold- aye are those my pants?"  
  
A.N: Review, reviews, reviews! Thank you all so very much, I can't express how much it all means to me. I'd like to answer you all individually, but I'm so sorry, I just don't have the time. My grandma just broke her hip (again) and I need to go visit her. In fact, this was written in about fifteen minutes. Whew, my fingers hurt! Anyway, I've discussed the holes in the plotline deal, and we've got it nearly all sorted out. ^-^  
  
Oh, and this chapter was designed for Johnny Depp fans, did you notice? Lol! Thank you all again for the reviews! 


	3. Runaway

"How could he escape? I thought they were all under lock and key!" Will exclaimed angrily, ignoring his wife's attempts to hush him. Her hand was locked around his forearm to keep him from getting any closer to Commander Norrington, but all to no avail. The Commander, who had been ignoring William's snappish complaints, turned on his heel to match the blacksmith's eyes. They were narrowed in an angry glare, Norrington with a mirroring look, "I can assure you, Mr. Turner, that they are all well guarded and locked in secure cells. We are conducting a search for the escapee as we speak, but I am not personally worried about what one pirate can do."  
  
He turned his back to them as he began to make his way back down the hallway when Will's low voice stopped the Commander in his tracks, "Surprising what Jack Sparrow accomplished. I mean, being one man and all." Norrington slowly turned with an icy glare aimed straight at Will, he returned with a defiant stare. Elizabeth's grip tightening around his arm, and the man saw the strain that appeared on his wife's face.  
  
"It would seem so," Norrington said dangerously, shortly, "Mr. Turner." He spat the words out as if they were a curse, a foul thing to say. Will's lip raised in a snarl, automatically taking a step toward the man, hands balling into fists, but Elizabeth jerked him back, "Will!"  
  
He searched her honey colored eyes, seeing the worry mixed with a twinge of fear, and his body immediately relaxed. He gave her a reassuring smile before draping his arm around her shoulders and turning to the still smothering Commander. "Which one escaped?" William asked with forced calm, even managing to crack a tight smile.  
  
"The one with the popping eye. It constantly fell out and needed to be cleaned," Norrington replied in a civil tone, his shoulders relaxing some. Elizabeth noted the looks the men shot one another, but made herself relax enough to put an arm around William's waist. She saw a pained expression that passed on the Commander's face, but was quickly pushed away by a blank look.  
  
"Yes, I know that one. He and his friend, a bit chunky, long curly hair, I remember them. He escaped without his friend? They seemed to go everywhere together."  
  
"Yes, I've heard the crew call him Ragetti, and his friend Pintel. We're interrogating with Mr. Pintel right now, and should be able to extract some information from him."  
  
"Extract?" Elizabeth asked softly, her eyes going wide. William patted her shoulder and whispered for her not to think on it. The Commander watched the two with a gleam of jealousy in his eyes, but quickly looked the other way. He gave a slight sigh and quickly murmured, "I must be on my way. Good day to you Mr. Turner," he gave Will a nod of his head, "and Miss Swa—Mrs. Turner." Elizabeth blushed heavily, smiling embarrassedly as Norrington back away down the hall.  
  
William led the way back to the city streets with his arm still around her shoulders. They walked silently along the cobbled streets, ignoring the calls of vendors offering foods. Eventually they were strolling hand in hand towards their home, when Elizabeth finally broke the silence by musing aloud. "He didn't seem like a very bright character, did he? Mr. Ragetti, I mean."  
  
Will chuckled, "No indeed. A bit queer, if you ask me." Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully, "I suppose that's good then." William watched his wife from the corner of his eyes, seeing the worry etched across her brow. He gave her hand an extra squeeze, planting a kiss on her forehead before locking onto her gaze. She smiled small, before looking up, "They're the one's that found me. Him and his friend are the ones that brought me to the ship." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she recalled hiding in the closet, heart pounding in her ears, fear welling inside.  
  
"And it will never happen again," Will promised in such a fierce tone, that Elizabeth stared up at her husband. He was determined to keep his vow, she saw that, and grinned, pulling him into a tight embrace. The blacksmith wrapped his arms around her body in a protective lock, his chin resting atop her head, smelling the sweet fragrance of her hair. He felt the warmth of her body pressed against his, arms stretched around his waist comfortably, and he could only sigh. Mentally, Will knew he would go to all costs to keep his promise.  
  
A.N: I love you all reviewers, you're all my best friends!! Just an update, my grandma is doing much better! She's got a week of therapy, then she can come home. Thank you SO MUCH for your thoughts and prayers, they mean more than you'll ever know. I'm not sure when I'll get around to updating this. I have to (I promised I would) finish another fic at the moment, but it's really wrapping up quickly. I'm starting two new PoTC fics as soon as I post this. So, just keep a look out. And again, reviews are greatly, appreciated. (Replies to all reviews coming soon, I promise!) 


	4. Rum

Recursed By The Black Pearl  
  
Jack staggered through the crowded streets of Chapbook. It was really a lovely city; at least Jack seemed to think so. Then again, he was a pirate, and he liked things a bit rowdy. And indeed, Chapbook was rowdy, though not as bad as if could be. Maybe it was the sunlight that chased the drunkards, thieves, and other such low lives into the shadows to wait for the cover of darkness to go about there dastardly deeds.  
  
Jack never let the sun stop him, especially with a mission as important as this. He would need all his wits about him if he was to be successful, and successful he would be. The pirate flashed a gold-toothed grin at a pair of giggling women, who in return, heightened the volume of laughter and scurried away. Roguishly grinning, Jack continued on his unsteady path, humming under his breath.  
  
He rounded a corner which led to the busiest port of Chapbook were all merchants set up their tents and goods in attempts to sell anything to anyone who dared pass by their way. Jack frowned, he had meant to go around the market place; those merchants were crafty. They could sell a petticoat to a young man, and leather boots to a female of any age. Being drunk, Jack had no hopes of going through the port with all of his money intact.  
  
So the pirate began to trek around the crowded area, absently listening to the calls of the tent owners calling out prices, waving merchandise around. Yes, there was one selling a pretty pink corset to a man, who had absolutely no use for it other than to wish there were a woman wearing it. A bit further down, a sneaky looking man collecting coins for large leather boots to a petite lady. Jack couldn't help but roll his eyes while wondering if maybe becoming a merchant could be more prosperous than the life of a pirate.  
  
"Sir, could I interest you in a golden dagger? A gentleman as yourself, I'm sure, could wield a weapon as this quite expertly!"  
  
"Well, I am quite good with a sword."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure you are sir! And where better to conceal your dagger than in your boots? I even have a strap with which you could use! Here, take a look at this dagger. Solid gold from Spain it is, sir!"  
  
Jack took a step towards the tent then recoiled back as if bitten, "No no no! Unless you're selling rum, you won't get a coin from me!" The merchant looked a bit crestfallen, as he held up the weapon, golden, gleaming in the sunlight.  
  
A dagger was a useful thing to carry around . . . No! He had a sword, what more did he need? Nothing; concentrate on the rum, Jack. Think of the rum!  
  
Jack admired the way his new weapon hung snugly against his boot by the strap, with a matching design stamped into the leather that was the same on the blade. He silently damned the merchant to hell, as well as his kin, for finally talking the pirate into buying the blasted weapon. He sighed sadly, staring into his leather pouch with jingled with far less coins than he had started out with. Blast those merchant dogs!  
  
Finally, the captain set his feet towards the tavern with only rum on his mind. He would not look to either side, nor listen to the enchanted calls of the merchants that were worse than sirens. He was nearly free of the marketplace when he took a double take as he saw a monkey scurrying over the tops of the tents. It was wearing a red coat, hat with large plumage.  
  
"Monkey!" Jack hissed under his breath warily, watching it drop onto the shoulder of a bony lad. The small man was leaning over a table displayed with glass eyes. Jack maneuvered closely, careful not to be seen by monkey or man. The man stared longingly at the eyes while absently rubbing at his own empty eye socket with a black patch over it. Jack rubbed his own eyes in disbelief. This straggly, blonde-hair boy could be the same one from his crew!  
  
Suddenly the monkey screeched, and before Jack could blink, they were gone. He whirled around, stared at the crowd to try and see where they could have slipped away, but he saw nothing. The pirate sighed, digging his knuckles into his eyes, rings biting into his forehead.  
  
Rum, Jack. Ah, right, rum. The captain walked from the crowd, down an alley where a rusty sign hung above a doorway. Jack grinned as he headed into the tavern, all thoughts of his dead crewmember vanished from his brain by the time he drowned his first glass of rum.  
  
A.N: Please don't hate me! I'm sorry it's taking me so long to update, but I absolutely HAVE to finish my faculty story before I can fully concentrate on another story. I swear I will update this when I can between work, school, and my other fics. Bear with me, because I do have a plan for this! As always, I appreciate reviews ever so much, and thanks to you all who have reviewed! 


	5. Family

Recursed By the Black Pearl

"What do you think about having kids, Will?"

The question came out of the blue, startling the blacksmith into nearly smashing his fingers off. He raised his gaze from the red-hot metal resting on the anvil to meet his wife's eyes. She was framed in the doorway of his shop, wearing a simple dress that managed to accent every womanly feature of her body.

Will smiled uncertainly, grabbing a rag hanging from a nearby hook and wiping his hands and brow on it. "Kids?" He repeated slowly, stepping towards her as she did the same. Elizabeth nodded, grinning at the bewildered look on her husband's face, streaked with sweat and grime. Disregarding the dirt, she pressed a kiss to his lips and placed a hand on his toned forearm.

"Yes, kids. We've been married a year Will and we've never really talked about it."

"You came all the way here just to talk to me about having children."

"Well, no, I was out with Katherine. And she's going to have a child!"

"Ah, I see," Will murmured, glancing sideways at Elizabeth. She had a longing in her eyes as she stared around his work area. It was well organized, like most things in Will's life. His finished swords hung on one wall, nearly crafted ones on another and scraps of metal he would shape into masterpieces piled on the floor. The shop hadn't changed much since Will moved from apprentice to master, except the business. Though Elizabeth silently put the blame on her father for Will's additional customers.

There were benefits to marrying the governor's daughter, she supposed.

She returned her eyes to her husband's face, saw the look of uncertainty, a certain wariness at the idea. She took his hands, callused and warm, in her delicate ones and led him to a bench away from the heat of the forge. "It's only logical for us to start a family, Will," she began slowly, choosing each word. How could she make him understand? If only he had seen Katherine and the way her face glowed when she moved her hand over her swollen belly. Elizabeth's own hands traced lightly over her own stomach, full of her lunch, but no baby.

Will was silently watching her, she could see it in his eyes, he thought it was just a phase she was going through. "Don't you want a son to teach, or a daughter to love? You'd make such a wonderful father, Will! You could teach our boy to be a blacksmith, like you! Oh, just imagine, Will. If we have a daughter, I could teach her to sew—"

"And she'll have an uncanny fondness for adventure and all things pertaining to pirates," the blacksmith interrupted with a wry smile. A rose blush rose to Elizabeth's cheeks, "Well, I'm sure she would enjoy the stories, Will. I certainly did, even living one." She paused as she noted the serious look that had just entered her husbands gaze. "I was only joking," she said quickly, almost apologetically.

"What if our child does yearn for adventure? What if she runs off to join the league with those scoundrals? What if he isn't pleased with the simple life we provide?" Will's eyes were filled with apprehension, his lips pressed into a thin line. His gaze drifted to stare into the flames licking and dancing within the forge, seeming to mezmerize the blacksmith. The soft flesh of Elizabeth's cool hand pressed against his grimy cheek was enough for Will to return his gaze to hers.

Tears had begun to brim in her large honey eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks should she only blink. He was taken aback by the intense stare she bore into him, by the sudden apperance of water flooding her eyes. He opened his mouth to utter an apology, having not meant to upset her so, when her lips pressed gently against his own. When the kiss ended and they slowl drew apart, Elizabeth was the first so speak.

"Oh, Will," she mumured, her breath warm against his face, "our children will love the life we give them. They will love you, Will, as much as I do."

"I don't have the money to provide for them the things they would deserve. I can't give them the luxury that you knew as a child."

She pecked another kiss on his cheek, smiling softly. "Don't you understand, Will? Your love is enough. For me and for our children, someday. It isn't about what you have materially, but what you have here." Her hand was placed over the left side of his chest where it could feel the steady beat of his heart just below the surface. Now it was the blacksmith's turn to have his eyes become moistoned with emotion.

"Elizabeth," he whispered as he took her face into his hands, "lets start a family. Lets do this right." He pulled her close, bestowing another kiss upon her mouth as the tears finally began to steam joyfully down her cheeks.

A.N.: I have no idea why I wrote this. It really has little to nothing to do with the story, but I enjoyed writing about Will and Elizabeth. I don't write many romance stories, so maybe I was just feeling romantic. Plus the fact that I haven't updated this since…2003! -.-; I'm so sorry. Please feel free to throw smelly socks at me.


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